


Man In Uniform

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), During Canon, M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Relationship, Public Humiliation, Sexual Fantasy, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Hank puts on his dress uniform to indulge in inappropriate fantasies about his hot new android partner, unaware that he's about to be summoned to a formal meeting.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	Man In Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Fantasies about abuse of power and position/sexual harassment.

Hank stood in front of the mirror wearing his formal uniform. He didn't look half bad, all things considered, though he was a little bigger than the last time he'd worn it. That wasn't a bad thing, though. He filled it out better now. He'd tied his hair back, marveling that it was now long enough to give him a small ponytail. He liked that it made him look like a bad boy. A bad boy in uniform.

He stuffed his large hands into the jacket pockets and grinned. God, if he went to the bar like this, he might actually take someone home. Shame he wasn't interested in anyone at the bar. That new android at the precinct, though. Whew.

Hank gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath. Connor. His name was Connor, and he was a royal pain in the ass. Showing up at the bar like he owned it and Hank. Dragging him to a cold crime scene as part of an investigation he wanted no part of. Malfunctioning androids were not high on his list of priorities.

He had to admit it had felt pretty good for someone to say he was needed, though. He'd been a spare part at the DPD for too long. He didn't know whose idea it was to leash Connor to him, but the android's pretty brown eyes seemed to plead with him for something more.

Hank wanted to give him something more, all right, but that wouldn't be appropriate. Connor was one of his boys, now. He was the Lieutenant. But it was nice to look at Connor's freckles and think about those sweet lips wrapped around his cock.

Hank stroked the bulge in his dress pants. Dressing up had always had a weird effect on him. He didn't want to say he found himself hot, because that was weird, but he felt confident right now that if he walked into the DPD looking like this, heads would turn. Maybe Connor would even be distracted from his fucking mission for five seconds. He might make that cute little robot stutter. His sensors would pick up Hank's arousal, his big dick straining for release, and he wouldn't know what to do with that information.

Hank could teach him what to do with it. Tell him to unzip his pants and take hold of his massive cock. Connor would comply, of course. He unzipped the dress pants and took himself in hand, imagining Connor's wide eyes taking him all in.

_"Y-yes, Lieutenant?"_ His plastic hands would keep rubbing, curious, wanting to learn even as Hank wanted to teach. Hank was hard, a bead of precome pooling at the tip of his dick as he looked at himself in the mirror. The kind of cop that he'd never wanted to become, harassing all the young rookies—but this was just a harmless fantasy. He could enjoy it, guilt free.

He rubbed the clear fluid onto his thumb and brought it up to his lips. He imagined Connor gripping his wrist, stopping him, greedily wanting that precious liquid for himself. Leaning in and sucking it off his thumb in the most decadent way possible, his LED swirling yellow as he analyzed it like evidence.

And then some kind of deep programming, not intended for use in this model would take over. Connor would drop to his knees, thirsty for more, and he'd take Hank to the root in one gulp, his lips stretched wide around Hank's excessive girth. Hank gave his dick a squeeze, feeling the sheer size of it. He'd been blessed in that department. A thick nine inches, and big, heavy balls to boot. Connor would caress them as he gave Hank a prize-winning blowjob, realizing this was what he'd really been made for. To serve Hank in all ways. His mission parameters would change.

Hank would ease Connor off his dick and lift him up onto the desk. He imagined Connor was pretty light, all things considered. He'd reach in his desk drawer and pull out a pair of shears, cutting a hole in the crotch of his new jeans. Androids didn't wear underwear, and his hole would be exposed. Hank would slide a finger into it to find it slick and ready.

_"Lieutenant, I'm fully prepared for insertion,"_ Connor declared.

"Oh, I know," Hank whispered to himself. Fuck, he was having too much of a good time with this. He pictured himself sliding into Connor, fucking the machine after hours right there on his desk. Connor would keep his volume level low, but he'd release a tiny gasp into Hank's ear every now and then, just to let him know he was enjoying it.

The uniform was becoming way too hot and constricting, but he was almost there. He leaned against the mirror as he thought about Connor gasping _"Lieutenant!"_ over and over, crying and coming like the little slut-bot he was. Hank gasped and came, splashing the mirror, his uniform, and his hand.

"Fuck," he gasped. He hadn't come like that in a long, long time. It was going to be difficult trying to work with Connor on the investigation now. That and he'd have to get his uniform dry-cleaned.

His cellphone rang. Hank grabbed it from the bedside table. It was Fowler.

"Captain?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna need you to come in in your dress uniform, Hank. We've got some CyberLife brass comin' down to check in on the android detective prototype and we want them to see the precinct at its best. Your striped shirt, jeans, and casual jacket ain't gonna cut it."

Hank looked down at his ruined pants, dripping with semen. "I'm not sure it still fits, sir."

"Make it fit," Fowler barked. "One hour. Don't be late, and for fuck's sake don't be drunk."

"Yes, sir," Hank said, hanging up the call. Fuck, what was he going to do? He quickly undressed and rushed into the bathroom. He came back with a wad of tissues and wiped off the come as best he could. He couldn't risk getting the pants wet. Wet stains would show on the navy blue fabric and he'd look like a disaster. It was as good as it was going to get.

_Or not_. He looked down at his crotch as he pulled into his parking spot at the precinct to see the stains had dried white. He looked awful, but he couldn't afford to show up late. He was always late.

He wandered into Central Station. Connor was waiting at his desk. His eyes seemed to glow, and Hank realized he was being scanned.

Connor handed him a manilla case file. "Perhaps you should hold onto this." Hank flipped it open to see photos from the Ortiz case. "To show the technicians if they want to see my work." He didn't look convinced, and Hank wondered if the android was giving him an out. He had to know the chemical composition of the stains on his thigh and that Hank had not simply had an accident involving a jar of mayonnaise.

Connor stood up, leading the way to Fowler's office. He paused before he opened the door. "If you need help relieving stress, Lieutenant, I'm available in that capacity as well."

Hank had to hold the folder over his junk for the entire meeting, as the bulge in his pants, covered in semen stains, was absolutely inappropriate for any and all eyes. Even Connor's.

_Especially_ Connor's.


End file.
